A World Away
by A.N. Clara
Summary: A series of USUK drabbles and one-shots. Time Travel AU, Dollhouse AU, Revolutionary War AU, etc. Warning: rated T for character death, violence, and language


A/N: Warning: Character death

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><p>Everyone dreamed about traveling back in time. Whether to correct a mistake or witness a historic event, selfish desires or a sense of egotism spurring them on, the impossible feat fascinated the world, especially when it finally became a reality. But it didn't truly interest Alfred, who was a crucial part of the experimental procedure. He figured it was a waste of time, trying to go back in time. Still, part of him hoped desperately it would work eventually.<p>

Mr. Jones had joined the force three years ago after the death of his fiancé had driven him away from his old life. He became a subject for the agency completely by accident, having applied for a position he knew nothing about. All of the other test subjects had quit or received injuries that put them out of work and left Alfred as the only available "guinea pig" willing to participate in the process. So, as most good things tend to be, he became a very important person, without purpose or direction.

"I am relatively positive it will work this time, Alfred," the lead scientist promised. "This is the closest we've ever been to..." She launched into a long scientific explanation Alfred understood at this point after years of having them tell him the same thing.

"Can I pick the date this time, for shits and giggles?"

He had little faith that this time, for the first time, the machine would work. It would be powered, lighting up like something out of science fiction, whirring and whistling, and suddenly a brightness would appear in the portal. Everyone's hearts would pound in their chests as they thought "yes, it's finally working!" and there would be hope. But as the subject approached, something always went terribly wrong. The lights would burn out in rapid succession, shattering with the sound of gunshots, or an awful grinding noise began and there was the scent of smoke that choked them as it wafted through the laboratory.

They agreed to let him pick a date, figuring there was no harm in it. Over fifty years the agency had been secretly trying to perfect time travel and everyone knew they'd get it right someday, just not today. What harm could it do? They should have asked themselves what good it could have done.

Alfred wasn't going to pretend this time. Even as the machine followed its normal routine, booting up or what have you, he didn't feel excitement or joy, only despair. He half hoped he would be killed like those lucky bastards that started the time travel experiment. At least he wouldn't have to be plagued by the hole Arthur left in his life when he passed away. Alfred knew he'd be happier wherever death took him because, no matter what came after, he'd be closer to Arthur.

But he wasn't killed. The light in the portal grew strong and remained steady for longer than any of them had ever seen. An awed silence swept across the room until only the machine spoke in its alien language of clicks and hums. Alfred was stunned, slightly panicked, but mostly confused. He looked at the lead scientist, unable to find the words to ask if he should step through. She nodded hesitantly, equally as shocked.

Nearly three dozen people watched Alfred as he took the first hesitant step toward the portal. He couldn't see through the light; it was almost blinding to look at directly. Before he decided to leap into the highly dangerous unknown, he had the sense to extend an arm into the bright abyss. Alfred expected his arm to be disintegrated on contact, but found his hand went straight through. He hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes until they opened wide in surprise.

"Mr. Jones, please proceed."

He didn't respond. Though he was inside on a cloudless day, he could feel rain on the palm of his outstretched hand. Alfred pulled his arm back and admired the droplets. _No_, he thought. _That's impossible_. He stuck his arm through up to the shoulder and sure enough, he felt rain. His heart set to racing in excitement, in fear.

Another scientist urged him to get on with it. "Are you risking your life?" he snapped. "Give me a goddamn minute!"

Alfred took a deep breath. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and took a step forward, fading into the alternate world none of them knew was Alfred's private hell.

The sounds of a busy city street hit his ears with a near painful realization - the shrill horns honked in aggravation, mostly silent murmurs of couples passing him by, the rain hitting their umbrellas with a sound unique to its combination, and tires sloshing over the wet pavement. Exhaust invaded his lungs, causing him to cough, the rain chilling him, making him shiver. Alfred was miserable. And he had never felt so alive.

With much more courage than he felt he had, Alfred opened his eyes. He was exactly where he wanted to be, on that crowded, awful street corner. More importantly, he was exactly _when_ he wanted to be. The billboard he was now face to face with had been torn down two years ago, and the advertisement for toothpaste it displayed was the same one he last saw, brand new, like it had been put up fairly recently. Three years ago it had. After this day, Alfred never traveled down this particular street. Simply standing there had him bursting with unpleasant emotions he'd rather not experience.

Realizing he didn't know how long he would have in the past, Alfred began sprinting, not caring that he was soaking wet and freezing. If the billboard was there, he had to be too. The hospital wasn't very far, perhaps a couple of blocks, but Alfred was understandably winded by the time he slowed to a jog in front of the dreary building. He continued through the front doors at the same pace, slipping on the slick tile and falling flat on his ass. Several people came to his aid, asking if he was okay. Alfred brushed them off, straightening his glasses, though it had indeed hurt. He didn't have time for this.

The receptionist that sat behind the window looked no more pleased to see him today than she had three years ago. He could have kissed her.

"Mr. Jones, you were instructed to leave less than an hour ago. Visiting hours are nine a.m. to five p.m. as you are aware. I must ask you to leave - again."

Alfred tried to look ashamed. "I'm sorry, Betty. I forgot my keys on the table and I'm locked out of the house. Can I, _please_, go get them? I'll be real quick, promise. He won't even know I'm there."

She rolled her eyes, but the little green light appeared on the door and it clicked open for him. "_Real quick, Mr. Jones._"

"You're an angel!" He couldn't get the door opened quickly enough.

He walked as fast as he was allowed with the watchful eyes of the nurses glancing over him reproachfully, though none mentioned the hospital's policy on visitation to him again.

The room could have been closer for convenience's sake. Alfred thought this several times on his route, every second worrying him more. He knew he wasn't too late from a present-time standpoint. It was the future that had him concerned. How much longer could he spend in the past? He didn't know.

Once he rounded the final corner, Alfred slid into the room, nearly falling again. He steadied himself and grinned at the angry looking Brit on the bed, forcing back the tears coming to his eyes.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Arthur asked with the most beautiful voice Alfred had ever heard. "You look positively dreadful."

Alfred fell to his knees at Arthur's bedside, taking one of the frail hands in his and pressing a kiss to his awfully pale skin. Arthur's gaze softened. "What is it, love?"

"I missed you."

"Come now, you were here not forty minutes ago."

"Just trust me. I miss you more than you'll ever know." He paused to steady his voice. "I love you, Arthur. Will you tell me you love me too? One more time."

"Oh, you silly twit. I don't know what's gotten in to you." Arthur saw the look of desperation in Alfred's eyes. "I love you, Alfred."

Alfred burst into sobs, clutching onto Arthur with as much strength as he could muster without injuring his ill lover. Arthur had some semblance as to what he was crying about, but he wouldn't understand the heartbreak Alfred had endured up until this moment, how beautiful the world seemed now that he heard Arthur say his name one last time. The sounds of grief tore from Alfred's throat and were muffled by the bedsheets, his trembling body held in one piece by Arthur's weak embrace. Alfred was finally home after years of being lost. It was as though he hadn't spent the three years without his love, yet had felt as if it had been three hundred at the same time.

"Love, what is the matter? Are you quite alright? Tell me what's happened."

Alfred lifted his head and smiled at Arthur, still sniffling and shaking. "It's been forever since I last saw you."

"You always say that."

"No, I mean it. It's been years."

Arthur mussed Alfred's hair affectionately. "You do look like you've put on some weight. How did you manage that in less than an hour?"

Normally, Alfred would have had a snarky remark to respond with. Instead he just laughed, loving every second he got to spend with the love of his life. He simply shrugged and Arthur chuckled weakly, commenting on the unhealthy foods Alfred frequently ate, accusing them of the miraculous weight gain.

"You realize we are going to get caught," Arthur said a moment later.

"No one can take me away from you. Not this time."

"Well, then, you'll have to share the bed with me. No sense in you kneeling on the floor all night. Come up here."

He eyed Alfred's wet clothes, asking him to undress without a word and Alfred slipped out of his leather jacket and jeans, the rest of his clothes thankfully dry enough to remain on. The last thing Alfred wanted to do was get Arthur chilled. He got cold so easily now that he was sick. Alfred didn't want his last memory of Arthur to be him trembling because he was an asshole. If only Arthur could know how far he really traveled to be here.

Alfred climbed onto the bed, carefully as to not disturb the IV lines or the cannula secured around Arthur's face, and let his fiancé curl into his side, wrapping both arms around his middle. His heart ached when he noticed Arthur was thinner than he remembered. The skin of his face was translucent, like paper when held up to the light, and he could see the purple and blue veins just beneath the surface.

None of that mattered now. This would be Alfred's last night with Arthur regardless of the time machine now being in working order. He knew that this was a fluke and should have never happened. All he could do was thank whatever higher power he believed in for this magical coincidence.

"I hate sleeping in the hospital. When I get home, remind me to write an angry letter regarding my stay."

Alfred choked on his reply, knowing full well that Arthur would never make it back home. He nodded so his voice wouldn't betray him. "How about I tell you a story to help you sleep."

"It had better be interesting."

"If I ever lost you, I would invent a time machine," Alfred began. "I would travel back to see you one more time, to see your smile, to hear you laugh."

Arthur made a noise of disbelief. "That's impossible. A time machine? I think you're mad."

"Shh, this is my story. I would go back to before I had even met you so I could have you for even longer than I already did. I would be a better guy, I swear. I would buy you flowers and say I'm sorry when I'm wrong. I would spend every waking moment telling you how much I love you. I think you'd get tired of me, but it would be worth it."

"I think that is a little extreme," Arthur said, "but it is a nice gesture."

"No, you don't understand, Arthur. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. You're all I think about when I wake up in the morning to the time I go to sleep at night. Even when I'm dreaming, it is about you and only you. I love you. I - I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I love you so much more."

"Shut up. I love you just as much!"

Alfred grinned through his tears, rubbing the back of Arthur's hand with his thumb. "I wish that was true, but it just isn't possible. Please don't leave me yet."

"Go on with your story, then."

"In the not so distant future, a distraught Alfred is working with a team of scientists on a machine that will take him back in time to see you. He spends everyday praying it will work, just once. He prays so hard that he knows God has to hear him. When Alfred's prayers go unanswered, he stops believing in God because what god could be so cruel that he would let someone die a little more each day and not answer him?

"But Alfred loves you so much, he keeps trying, keeps praying, keeps hoping. One day, far too long from now, the machine turns on - and it stays on. Everyone is shocked and refuses to believe it is working. Alfred, being the hero, takes a step forward like no other person has done before. He discovers that he has done it. He has made it to the past. Even though it is pouring outside and the nurses are mean in this damn hospital, he makes it in time to see his Arthur again."

Alfred couldn't see Arthur's face, but he knew it was red and tearstained. He kissed the top of Arthur's head, still crying a bit himself. They were silent for a while. Only the steady hum of the hospital machines made a sound.

"Who in their right mind would put _you_ on a project that could drastically alter the fate of the world?" Arthur said in a joking manner. "And why would they let you see me?"

"Does it really matter? I make it happen, Arthur. I had to see you again or I'd die."

Arthur didn't say anything for a moment. "I'm tired, Alfred. Let me sleep. We can talk in the morning."

Alfred knew they would never speak again, but he was prepared for that now.

"O-okay, s-sure. We can talk in the morning." He knew what would happen before then. "I'll love you forever."

"Then I'll love you longer than that." There was a pause. "Make sure future Alfred doesn't waste all of that time on me when I'm dead, alright?"

Arthur knew. Alfred felt his heart breaking again, just as it had when he received the phone call in the early hours of the morning with a nurse instructing him to get the funeral preparations ready. He didn't believe it - he still didn't. How could Arthur be gone? It may have taken 3 years, but Arthur was still here, right in Alfred's arms where he belonged. He was an eternal being, always there and always would be.

"I won't, I promise. It's not a waste. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I love you."

There is no way he could ever say that enough. And as Arthur drifted off to sleep, Alfred continued to whisper the sentiment in his ear, even after his throat was sore, even when Arthur's heart slowed to a stop. He sobbed a gentle goodbye into his lover's hair, having to pry his own arms off of his lifeless body, knowing that soon it would grow cold and stiff. Alfred wanted to stay regardless, hoping he could spend at least a little longer with his beloved's body, but the nurses would make their rounds soon. If they realized Arthur had passed with him there, they would not contact the present Alfred, and that would be devastating in itself. He had to go before something awful happened.

Before he left, after he had dressed in his slightly wet clothes, Alfred had to see his face once more. He had done everything a final time, and this had to be done again. Alfred pressed a chaste kiss to Arthur's forehead, finding that he looked much happier than he had inside the casket three years ago. Even though he was pale and still looked very sickly, he did not appear as sad. He was at peace. His Arthur was finally able to rest.

Alfred knew in that moment he had made the right decision in coming here. Out of all the years they spent together, Alfred chose the last day they would ever have. He couldn't live with himself knowing that Arthur died alone in that hospital he hated so much. Now he didn't. Wherever, whenever, Arthur was, he would know that Alfred was by his side until the very end, just as he swore when he got down on one knee and begged Arthur to be his husband. If he could change one thing, though, he wouldn't have waited so long.

He returned to the apartment he and Arthur shared, knowing his present self would be currently sprinting toward the hospital and Alfred wondered how he could have so much as moved with a heart as heavy as his was that day. It would be the first time he stepped foot in the apartment in almost as long as Arthur had been gone. He stopped at the door and waited, pressing his forehead against the painted wood. His hands were shaking.

"Arthur," he sighed. He was afraid of going in, having to face the memories he tried to push aside for the sake of his sanity. But he was drained, exhausted from the long, emotional day. What Alfred needed was to sleep. Fear be damned, he was going to bed.

Had the door been locked, the key was under the mat, but he didn't need it. In his grief, he had forgotten to lock up the apartment. Now that he had time to reflect on it, he was fortunate all of his things were still there when he returned, and not stolen from him in his moment of weakness.

The smell of tea hit him as soon as he stepped inside. He smiled at the recollection that his home always had the scent of Arthur's tea. Alfred had forgotten that. It was something he missed that he hadn't even thought of.

Pacing through the small one bedroom, he had the chance to see it the way Arthur had left it, spic and span and more organized than he could hope to ever be. Framed pictures of them sat on the dresser that made him laugh and cry at the same time. He hadn't taken those pictures out of the boxes he set them in for ages. Alfred thought he should really put at least one out. He'd been acting like Arthur never happened, but that could not be farther from the truth.

When he looked at the bed, he collapsed on it. He was so glad to be home, really home, where he didn't feel like Arthur was a ghost and neither was he. Alfred inhaled the scent of Arthur's pillow and laughed out loud. He missed Arthur more than he could tell. It had been twice now he lost him, but it did not feel that way. He'd been given another chance, the opportunity to come back to life. Everyone knew he died when Arthur did and he felt like an actual person again, for the first time in forever. The same man that took his life had returned it. He was free.

Alfred succumbed to sleep shortly after, unsure of what he was going to do next. He didn't know how he was going to return to the future, he truly didn't care. With that final goodbye, he was able to live his life, newly whole and incredibly happy, whether he remained in the past or made it home in the future. All he had ever wanted was to say goodbye. As long as Arthur knew Alfred loved him, he could be happy.

Accompanied by sweet dreams of his love lost too soon, Alfred awakened. He was dismayed, yet relieved, to find himself in the lab, lying across several chairs that lined the wall. In panic, he sat upright. If he was here, he thought, did he ever truly leave? One of his colleagues noticed him awakening and smiled brightly.

"Please tell me it worked," he begged. "I went back, didn't I? Please, I had to go back. It can't be a dream."

The woman nodded her head sweetly. "It did, Mr. Jones! You are the first man to time travel. You will go down in history as the greatest explorer of the twenty-first century! Isn't that exciting?"

Alfred exhaled with relief. He didn't care so much about making history. His Arthur was happy. That is all that ever mattered to him.

The scientist tilted her head to the side a bit. "May I ask when you went?"

He looked up at her, the corners of his lips turning up. "I just wanted to witness the moment that made time travel possible."

"Oh, that is excitingly cryptic. Whenever you went, I hope you enjoyed it. Welcome home, Mr. Jones."

Alfred's gentle smile faded. He wasn't home anymore. "Thank you."

The woman did not appear to notice his sudden mood shift, turning on her heel to walk away. Once she had gone, Alfred inhaled the collar of his shirt deeply, hoping that he might still smell Arthur on his clothes. He sighed in agitation when he found he couldn't. It was going to be a long lifetime without his sunshine, but he was sure he could make it now. His visit to the past taught him that he should treasure every moment. Not everyone had that chance, so he should take it. That is what Arthur would want him to do.


End file.
